


Deeper

by Lindsey7618



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Feels, Cutting, Depression, Hurt Alec, I'm running out of tags, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Sad Alec, Self Harm, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Shadowhunters - Freeform, alec cuts, alec self harms, ignore the title I'm sorry I couldn't come up with anything, self destructive behavior, self harm trigger warning, self hate, the mortal instruments - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindsey7618/pseuds/Lindsey7618
Summary: *SELF HARM TRIGGER WARNING*He let the lyrics sooth him and his heartbeat finally started slowing down. He picked up the blade and tried again, holding it to his skin and counting to three. He pressed down harder than usual and slid it across the skin he was pinching in one swift motion. For one short second he felt nothing, and then a sudden sharp pain startled him.





	Deeper

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: self harm (please don't read it if this triggers you)

Alec ran a finger over the small blade he held lightly in his hand. His heart was beating faster and his hands were starting to shake. It's not that big a deal, he thought. Just fucking do it already. 

He set the blade to his skin and counted down to one, but nothing happened and he closed his eyes and cursed. "Dammit! You can do this!" he whispered savagely, and he grit his teeth. 

He tried again and again, but he couldn't do it. He paused, trying to slow down his heart and even out his breathing, but he was starting to panic and couldn't calm down. He grabbed his phone and turned his music on. He closed his eyes as "she sits up high, surrounded by the sun," flowed out of the speakers. (yes okay where my fellow pierce the veil fangirls at) 

He let the lyrics sooth him and his heartbeat finally started slowing down. He picked up the blade and tried again, holding it to his skin and counting to three. He pressed down harder than usual and slid it across the skin he was pinching in one swift motion. For one short second he felt nothing, and then a sudden sharp pain startled him. 

He stared down at the cut, barely recognizing that he had cut deeper than he ever had before, and he dropped the blade in surprise, abandoning the sharp metal for the nearby paper towels to press onto the cut. 

"Fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, his left hand gripping his knee to distract himself from the pain. It wasn't that he didn't want the pain, he did. He deserved it, he needed it. But it still fucking hurt and he was panicking again and shaking more than before. He needed to steady himself. 

He let the lyrics wash over him, quietly singing along as he closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was okay. "I'm fine," he whispered to the air, "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fucking fine." 

He wanted to cry. He wanted to burst into tears and sob. But for some he reason he couldn't. He could never cry. He cried at sad movies and depressing books, but his emotions would never let him cry to get things out and he didn't know why. 

After a few minutes he lifted the paper towels up so he could see inside the cut. The first thing he saw was the bobbly bits of fat and the blood that slowly seeped over the fat, filling up the cut again. He dropped the paper towels back down after watching the blood run down his thigh so it wouldn't hit the floor and stain it. 

He felt a sense of pride at having cut that deep, and he knew anyone else would find it sick, but he felt damn happy he had finally managed to do what he had been wanting to do for a long time. He had finally given himself as much fucking pain as he fucking deserved. 

He had finally hurt himself enough, not that there really was an "enough", he knew he still deserved to hurt even more, and as he stared down at the cut again he wished that he had cut even deeper. That's barely anything, he thought bitterly. I could have cut much deeper and I should have. 

He knew a cut with fat visible was considered deep and stitches worthy but he didn't feel it was good enough. Plenty of people had cut so much deeper. There were tons of pictures of cuts on Tumblr that were deeper than his. Even his cuts weren't good enough. 

Self hate was bubbling up inside him again and he cut again several more times, the last two being just as deep as the original one. He bit his lip, angry that he hadn't cut any deeper, but he decided that for now it was enough. He wasn't stable right now and all he wanted to do was blast music in his ears.

He cleaned up the blood and put bandaids over the cuts. He knew he should use butterfly stitches but he didn't have any and he wanted bigger scars, so he left them alone and slid his jeans on. 

He climbed into bed and put his earphones in, turning the volume up as high as it would go so Disasterology was blaring in his head. He searched through his songs (mostly Twenty One Pilots, Bring Me The Horizon, Panic! At The Disco, and bands like that) and settled on Therapy by All Time Low. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him as he pretended everything was okay once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Was this even any good or is it just a piece of shit?? Let me know? ALSO Pierce The Veil is amazing, they're my favorite band, you guys should listen to them!!!
> 
> If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, I'm /always/ here! I can talk over other social media too.


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